


A thousand times over

by MissingMissFisher (bokchoynomad)



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokchoynomad/pseuds/MissingMissFisher
Summary: A series of mixed messages, crossed wires, and assumptions that lead Phryne and Jack around in a miserable dance of the other thing they do best: miscommunicate. When and how will it stop?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this fic by the following beautiful lyrics of Argentine singer, Gustavo Cerati, after @comeaftermejackrobinson translated and shared them with me:
> 
> _"Someone has said to me that loneliness is hidden behind your eyes, and that the feelings you breathe are stuck in your chest. I wish you understood I didn't put your fears wherever it is you keep them safe, and I won't be able to rid you of them if every time I tried you tear me apart._
> 
> _I don't want to have the same dreams a thousand times over and over again, I don't want to contemplate things wisely, I just want you to handle me with care._
> 
> _You behave accordingly to whatever you feel at the moment, and this inconstancy isn't something heroic, it's rather crazy._
> 
> _I don't want to have the same dreams a thousand times over and over again, I don't want to contemplate things wisely, I just want you to handle me with care."_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

> _"Someone has said to me that loneliness is hidden behind your eyes, and that the feelings you breathe are stuck in your chest.”_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

 

She tried to breathe in and out slowly knowing mentally that this was meant to relax her muscles and thus alleviate the sudden pain.

In.

Out.

In.

_Oh, what’s the point?_ It was only making everything worst!

She slumped against the side of her Hispano listlessly and stared with uncharacteristic forlornness at the restaurant’s seemingly innocent facade.

It was meant to be a place that offered delightful sustenance to fill the demands of the belly and the tastes of the mouth. A retreat from the usual drudgery of life. A beacon from the emptiness of eating at home alone.

But not anymore, especially not after tonight.

She was quite certain that she was to meet Jack there for dinner. She had been looking forward to it all day long after receiving the message from Dot that had been relayed to her by Hugh who had passed it along from the inspector. It had been several days since they had seen each other after the seismic finale of the Pandarus case.

After Jack’s late night visit when he had established that he was not always an honourable man, Phryne allowed her thoughts to return to her enigmatic inspector more than usual. The memory of that vivid moment when his eyes gleamed at her just as it seemed he had reached out for her (before Aunt Prudence’s ill-time interruption) had emblazoned itself onto her mind. She kept re-examining it constantly throughout the past few days whilst she and Dot had been called away for a case. Unlike their misadventure to Maiden Creek, she hadn’t had the opportunity nor any reason to telephone Jack. After wrapping things up, they had both hightailed it back to Melbourne late that morning.

Tonight, she had arrived fashionably late, as always. But, she still paused momentarily just outside the window when she spotted his handsome side profile at a table in the far corner. She loved the way the restaurant’s interior lights glinted of his oiled curls as he sat there with his reflective expression that she secretly loved to rattle. Sashaying through the door, she had begun plotting some delightful ways to coax a much different expression from those gorgeous eyes of his.

The sweet doorman had stood aside for her, and she was preparing to glide over right up behind to surprise him. When she saw him lean back holding someone else’s hand.

A hand belonging to his former wife, Phryne realised too late as she skirted a potted palm tree.

Rosie’s smile had frozen in surprise suddenly before twisting into slight disdain as her eyes flicked up over her former husband’s head. An inestimable amount of pain and anger contained within those orbs pierced straight into the widened ones of Miss Fisher.

Like a lit flame, they singed and quickly engulfed the feathery thoughts that had just been flittering happily through Phryne’s mind, leaving the ashes of her anticipation smoking in ruins.

In a whirl of silks, Phryne had turned and whisked herself away back the way she came, before Jack even had the chance to turn his head and register what had just happened.

How could she have allowed herself to reach this state? Phryne Fisher never allowed anything or anyone to catch her off guard. In fact, she was the personification of the element of surprise! There was a reason why she had not taken anything seriously in the past decade, and whatever it was she had just encountered was one of them. It simply wasn’t worth risking one’s hopes and dreams into another’s keeping. Far better to continue as she had been by living each moment completely so there was no room for such derailing shocks or shattering expectations.

Her senses suddenly spurred her upright when she sensed him approaching before his voice beckoned to her. She deliberately ignored the powerful way something within her immediately lunged towards the deep sound echoing down the road to her.

Slamming herself inside her beloved car, she started up the engine with expert ease, zooming away into the night with the sound of her scarf whipping about behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

> _“I wish you understood I didn't put your fears wherever it is you keep them safe, and I won't be able to rid you of them if every time I tried you tear me apart.”_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

He turned away from the familiar door after the kindly butler had reluctantly closed it behind him. He had an inkling that he’d end up on a fool’s errand for coming there at all. But after seeing Rosie safely back to her sister’s following their unfortunately shortened dinner, he was close to breaking several traffic laws in his concern to reach Phryne. Only to be informed that she wasn’t in, and that she had instructed Mr Butler and Dot to not wait up.

Staring out into the unrelenting dark night, Jack realized that she would most likely have headed directly for any number of her usual favourite nightly haunts (most likely less than above board). Since he was still off duty, he decided morosely to head back to the emptiness of his abode.

But after arriving there and downing a measure of his passable whisky, he also knew that he was too keyed up to attempt to get ready for bed. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was approaching midnight. If he hurried now, there was another stop he could make to help deliver him from the madness in his mind.

His relief at seeing the light still on through the frosted glass of the office was quickly quelled by the evil eyeballed gaze of its owner who slowly answered his firm knock.

“Inspector.”

“Doctor.”

“She’s not here,” Mac’s sardonic statement caught him by surprise. “In fact, you just missed her.”

“I…uh….” _Damn it, why wasn’t his tongue cooperating?_ “Is she all right?”

“You tell me, Jack Robinson! I haven’t seen her this agitated, well, since you helped her find Janey, to be honest.”

_Good one, Robinson. You’ve managed to drive her back into the emotionally wrecked state she was in when a psychopathic killer was after her._

“So, she didn’t tell you, er, what had upset her?”

“Not exactly, but I gathered it had something to do with you. I could sense it through all the garble about how right she was for not taking anything seriously since the War, several repetitions about ‘living in the moment,’” she paused briefly sifting back through her memory.

“Oh, and something about not having to bother with ‘shattered expectations.’ This ringing any bells, Inspector?”

She punctuated her tone with a raised eyebrow. Although he hadn’t a clue what she was imparting, he knew he was in deep trouble regardless.

“Look, Jack,” she eased up momentarily, opening her office door to lean against it with her arms crossed. “It’s late. You know my shift just ended, but that we both have that autopsy to review tomorrow. Go home and get some rest. I’m sure you’ll be able to find her tomorrow and sort it out then. In the meantime, we know she can take care of herself.”

He nodded slowly and thanked her before bidding her a good night.

Instead of heading back home, Jack steered his car in the direction of the station, deciding to bury his concerns by reviewing some of his more complex case files. As he drove along, however, he continued to mull over the complexities of the one he had unwittingly found himself tangled within.

Methodically, he reviewed all the facts from the past few days. He thought back to the evening following his momentous arrests of his former father-in-law and Fletcher. The irony wasn’t lost on him how he had also spent an inordinate amount of time that night sifting through the myriad of thoughts and emotions concerning one Miss Fisher. He still felt remorse for not being able to spend any time with her following the aftermath of being abducted, nearly being sold into slavery, and then nearly being shot point blank by the bastard who had masterminded it all. Only to then see him attempting to calm and comfort Rosie during her breakdown at the station. It was no wonder she had sounded so far from his usually confident and teasing partner by the time he finally summoned the courage to go see her despite the late hour.

Then, in spite of his failed attempts to clearly demonstrate his intentions towards her ( _damn her aunt’s arrival!_ ), the following days had felt euphoric. He was sorely disappointed that their potential next meeting would be delayed due to her being called out of town for a case that didn’t require his assistance. He was thus secretly excited when an interesting case landed on his desk that very morning to coincide with her and Miss William’s return.

He had hovered unapologetically in plain sight during Collins delighted telephone conversation with his sweetheart shortly after her return. At Jack’s nod, his constable eagerly mentioned that there was a new case. Suddenly remembering his promise to meet with Rosie that evening, he had returned to the front desk to scribble a reminder note to Hugh. He would be over to see Phryne soon as he finished his dinner plans.

Somehow or other, the evening hadn’t played out as he had imagined at all. Greeting the night duty constable on his arrival, Jack resignedly made his way into his office and sank into his well-worn chair. In spite of Mac’s parting words, he also couldn’t help worrying over Phryne. The telephone receiver was nestled against his ear before he’d even realised he had placed the call.

“Good evening, you’ve reached the Fisher residence.”

“Hello, Mr Butler,” Jack responded, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish.

“Ah, good to speak to you again, Inspector! Actually, Miss Fisher just returned home not too long ago. Shall I go and find her for you?”

“If you would be so kind….” Jack trailed abruptly off when he heard Phryne’s laugh ring out from a distance followed by the low murmurs of someone else. Someone decidedly male. “Actually, it is rather late now. Please let her know that I will telephone in the morning.”

“As you wish, sir. I am sure she will be happy to hear from you.”

After hanging up the telephone, Jack leaned over and slumped his head down against his desk. Sleep wouldn’t come so he might as well put his whirring mind to some use until it was a decent enough time tomorrow to try again tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your "phabulous" comments! Hopefully, the end of the torture is in sight! I hope you enjoy this next addition!

> _“I don't want to have the same dreams a thousand times over and over again, I don't want to contemplate things wisely, I just want you to handle me with care.”_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

 

The cool water swirled around her body, soothing the slight throbbing inside her temples. Unfortunately, it wasn’t able to quell the deeper ache that an evening of dancing had also failed to vanquish. Following her quick visit to Mac to unleash the brunt of her anxieties last night, Phryne had decided to accept the latest invitation to yet another after-party celebrating the latest triumphs of “The Bride of Bablyon.”

Delighted that she could make it in the end, she and Raymond had decided to continue their conversation over a nightcap back at hers where he could update her on the film’s latest successes and ideas for his next one. She was glad to have had the opportunity to catch up with her friend considering she had been ready to forego the party due to her recent caseload. And, truth be told, she knew that most of her evenings lately had been unofficially reserved in order to spend them with a certain detective inspector. The thought of Jack suddenly caused her to tense slightly from a mingled sensation of both dread and longing.

With one last attempt to shed some of the confusing feelings that still lingered, Phryne submerged herself for several minutes under the fragrant bath water. She opened her eyes whilst slowly releasing her breath and simply watched the rippling sunlight sparkle into her boudoir. The sight warmed her heart, and prompted her to quash the hovering thunderclouds in her mind. She shot straight up through the surface with a loud slosh of water over the sides of the tub.

At the sound of Dot’s surprised gasp, she flashed a mischievous grin in greeting to her dear companion.

“I’ve brought up your tea and toast, miss,” Dot responded with a large smile of her own at the sight of Miss Fisher’s teasing one. She had arrived back home from her evening out with Hugh well before Phryne had returned, which was not at all unusual.

However, she was slightly confused by the note she saw Mr Butler had left for their mistress stating that Inspector Robinson had visited earlier in the evening as well as telephoned later last night. And that he would try again later this morning. _Now, why would he be trying to reach Miss Phryne multiple times if they had just met for dinner the very same evening?_

“Thank you, Dot, I’ll be right out.”

“Yes, miss. Oh, Mr Butler asked me to remind you about these messages on my way up.” She passed the notes over along with a fresh towel. “What are your plans for today, miss? Is there anything in particular that you would like me to lay out for you?”

“Hmmm,” Phryne thought out loud as wrapped the towel around herself and read Mr B’s notes about Jack’s visit and telephone call. “How about something for a picnic, Dot? Even if the majority of it may need to be indoors.”

“A picnic? That sounds lovely,” Dot agreed. “Where?”

“Is Hugh on duty today?”

At Dot’s confused nod, Phryne laid out her battle plan. “I think it’d be a lovely idea to pack a lunch feast and deliver it in person to City South’s finest today. What do you think?”

“Well, miss, you know it’s not hard to guess what I think,” Dot glowed with eagerness. “I just finished a batch of drop scones, in fact, which I know Inspector Robinson is quite partial to.”

“Excellent! I believe the inspector is _very_ partial to many delights that come out of this household, Dot,” Phryne willingly agreed, nibbling on a corner of toast with renewed purpose in her eyes.

 

*-*-*

 

With the noonday sun warming them from above, Phryne swung into an open gap outside of the station. She grinned over at Dot who was still clutching at her hat with one hand, and balancing one of the lunch baskets with the other.

“Hope the jelly is still standing,” she quipped with a wink as she grabbed the other bountifully loaded basket from the back seat and climbed down from the car. The two of them continued to chatter as they breezed into the faded entrance with their loads.

“Dottie!” Hugh’s face lit up as the sight of his beloved. “Afternoon, Miss Fisher!” he grinned.

“Hello, Hugh, hope you’re hungry!” Phryne greeted him. “And speaking of hungry, is the inspector in?”

As per usual, she had continued to sail straight on through the little white gate towards Jack’s office without waiting for a response. As a result, she missed the panicked expression that had instantly eclipsed the constable’s face.

“Wait, Miss Fisher! He’s…erm, not available at the moment.”

“Oh, is he in a meeting? Or the middle of questioning someone?” Phryne paused only momentarily with a quick look over her shoulder.

“Um, y-y-yes, something like that, miss,” Collins fumbled in response.

“Well, if he’s in his office, I’ll just pop in and see if there’s anything I can do to assist.”

“No! Wait, Miss Fisher!”

She gave a quick wave behind her before reaching to twist the doorknob and flouncing her way inside the familiar room.

Only to find Jack crouching down next to _her_ usual chair (when she wasn’t perched on her other usual spot, of course) with an arm around its current occupant who seemed to be weeping.

Phryne froze when they both looked up and over their shoulders towards the source of the interruption. Once again, Phryne’s shocked expression met the horrified one of Rosie Sanderson.

“Pardon my interruption,” Phryne heard herself robotically utter. “I’ll just leave this for you with Hugh, Jack.” Again, she spun around and disappeared as quickly as she had whirled in.

“Please excuse me for a minute, Rosie,” Jack hurriedly sprang up and nearly rammed his face against the glass pane of his door just as Miss Fisher had whipped it shut behind her.

“Miss Fisher, wait!” he yanked the door open and called out after her. “Phryne, please!”

She stopped and turned around, a shadow of a smile falsely stretching her crimson lips.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you…again, Jack. I should have called ahead to let you know I was coming.”

Her formal tone sped him up faster towards her. He stopped himself suddenly before he could collide into her. She stepped away at his sudden proximity, woodenly passing him the lunch basket.

“Thank you,” he yammered. “I, er…did you receive my messages?” His eyes anxiously scanned hers, willing her to read his concern. But, she kept glancing away.

“Yes, Jack,” she glanced up at him briefly. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was not able to receive them directly.”

Realizing they had unwillingly gathered a bit of an audience by this point, Jack briefly reached out to touch her elbow.

“Will you be home later?” At her tentative nod, he rushed on before he could stop himself. “I would like to come visit you after my shift ends, only if that’s not any inconvenience?”

“Of course, Jack.” Again, the smile she fastened to her face didn’t reach her eyes, but he noticed how she had inched closer again. Their eyes latched effortlessly, rapidly assessing this invisible barrier intent on erecting itself between them. “I’d like that. Come for dinner.” He nodded as relief flooded his expression.

“Oh, and thank you for the, er, basket. I’m really sorry that I have to go now,” he responded with visible reluctance, tilting his chin slightly back towards his office. “I’ll be by later. Around seven?”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she told him in a less mechanical tone. She then flashed him a more Phrynesque smile before turning away suddenly. “Will you be coming home with me now, Dot? Or should I expect you later?”

“No, miss, I’ll come with you now,” Dot reassured her immediately, glad to escape the palpable tension in the room. She then rushed after Miss Fisher after saying her farewells to Hugh and the inspector.

The room darkened visibly after the door closed behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

 

> _“You behave accordingly to whatever you feel at the moment, and this inconstancy isn't something heroic, it's rather crazy.”_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

 

Jack uncharacteristically kept checking his watch and glancing at the clock on his office mantel throughout the day.

The day had sped up considerably after the fiasco with Rosie’s breakdown when she had arrived to visit her father before Russell Street prepared to move Sanderson to a more permanent holding facility. The inspector was still slightly anxious from Phryne’s impromptu visit in the middle of it all, and how she again witnessed him comforting his former wife. Jack groaned out loud as he rubbed his hands across his tired features. Days like these seriously had him wondering why he continued to bother paying the taxing costs of belonging to the “honourable man” club!

The slight chiming of the clock on the sixth hour pealed out its permission for him to shed official duty for once. Resolutely, he stuffed away the files on his desk into his desk drawers, flung on his coat and hat, and rushed out the door before Hugh could even blink in farewell.

He glanced down briefly at the aftermath of his rather rumpled suit that bore the evidence of his trying day. All things considered it still looked passable after he had been wept on by his ex-wife, bled on briefly after rescuing a stabbing victim, and then spat upon after apprehending and arresting the perpetrator. But, passable was certainly not up to his usual standards, especially when he knew he needed to be at his best for this evening. And, he always felt his best by looking his best so he changed directions quickly to head home for a quick shower and change of clothes.

Freshly buttoned up in his navy suit and sporting a tie that she had once fussed over several times, Jack once again found himself before the door of 221B, the Esplanade. He nervously spun the basket in his hand whilst trying not to grip the object in his other one too tightly.

On a whim, he had decided to stop by his back garden and bundled together a little bouquet, telling himself it was a token of his gratitude for her thoughtful lunch basket delivery earlier. He had also written out a brief note for her as well, a gesture that made him feel like a much younger man heading out to meet his sweetheart for their first outing. When it came to Phryne, however, he had to admit that she often made him feel this way though he would rather do multiple night shifts than let her know.

Miss Williams greeted him sweetly after answering his knock and inviting him to step inside.

“Good evening, Inspector Robinson, please come in.”

His eyes immediately honed in onto Phryne who was standing in the little vestibule gesticulating animatedly along with whoever she was speaking to on the telephone. She beamed a delighted smile towards him when she turned around and spotted him, giving him a happy little wave. She then pointed at the receiver and followed it with a brief shrug indicating she didn’t know how much longer the call would take.

“Would you like to wait for Miss Phryne in the parlour, Inspector? She shouldn’t be too much longer, I imagine.”

He glanced over at her again, and nodded slightly, passing the basket and flowers over to Dot.

“Oh, these are lovely, Inspector! I’ll go find a vase for them straight away.”

She retreated to tend to the flowers, leaving Jack to make his own way into the familiar room that had become a welcome haven to him over the past few months. He was about to head over to his favourite spot by the mantelpiece, when the sight of a huge array of very expensive-looking flowers greeted him from its prime spot on the piano. His heart began to sink at the sight of them just as Phryne’s laughter drifting over seemed to taunt it further.

His ears perked up as he guiltily tuned into her side of the conversation.

“Of course, I did, darling, and they are magnificent! I told you last night that you needn’t bother.”

It was that man, Jack immediately recalled. The one who’s voice he had heard in the background when he had tried to ring late last night. The one who had been here when Jack should have been if things hadn’t gone to ruin so spectacularly.

“Yes, I’m so glad we could reconnect as well. _Um hmmm_. I agree, it was indeed wonderful that we could continue here after the party. Marvellous, in fact!”

Just as Jack felt himself begin to feel slightly ill, Mr Butler materialised before him.

“Good evening, Inspector! I imagine a drink would be in order.” Jack gladly accepted the drink from the older gentleman.

“And, might I add, sir, that these are truly remarkable,” Mr B added as he placed Jack’s collection of white flowers, pale, pink bell-shaped blossoms and sprigs of greenery arranged into a beautiful gold vase onto the centre of the mantel. “Mrs Butler was especially fond of these,” he pointed fondly towards the pink ones.

Jack quickly threw back the drink. “Thank you, Mr Butler, although it looks like my offering has been rather eclipsed,” he replied acerbically.

Before the gentleman could reply, Miss Fisher breezed into the room.

“Jack, at last!”

“Miss Fisher.”

“So sorry to keep you waiting,” she chirped before spotting his flowers. “Oh, Jack, how delightful! You really shouldn’t have!” She whirled over to lift one of the pink blossoms to her nose.

“I, er, hope you don’t think it was too forward of me, Miss Fisher,” Jack mumbled out, again distracted by the massive explosion of blooms cascading across the piano. He knew that a fraction of those flowers probably cost more than several weeks of his salary. “I just wanted to give you something as a small token of my thanks for bringing me lunch today.”

The words sounded hollow even to his own ears. He suddenly felt extremely ridiculous for even being there, thinking he could never compare with one of her many other admirers. He certainly couldn’t compete with the extravagance of the one who had been here evidently last night and was still capturing her attention today.

“I adore them, Jack,” she confirmed with one of her heart-melting smiles. “Though as I’ve just told you, you needn’t have.”

Although his heart jumped at the sight of her genuine delight over his little gift, his mind couldn’t help remembering how she had just declared nearly the same phrase to her mysterious admirer. His recurring fear that he was simply one of many suddenly propelled him towards the doors.

“Forgive me, Miss Fisher, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stay for dinner after all.”

“Jack?” Her joyful expression wilted suddenly into confusion and a mixture of something else he couldn’t identify.

“I’m sorry, but I need to go immediately. Please do send my regrets to Mr Butler.”

With that, he retrieved his hat and rushed out the door before she could attempt to protest.

Phryne sank down onto her chaise as the painful emotions from the previous night returned in full force to begin shredding at her insides again. Why did this keep happening? Being on this emotional railway of chaotic emotions was simply becoming too exhausting! Which was why she had tried so adamantly to stay away from becoming so entangled in them again. She had had enough of emotional upheaval after losing and finding Janey, after surviving the War, and after escaping the end of her time in Paris.

And now, just as she was finally feeling established again here in Melbourne, and allowing herself to enjoy being part of a true partnership, she kept finding the rug being pulled out from under her. It was even more distressing because the “rug” ( _fine, let’s call a spade a spade)_ , or _Jack_ and his unassuming presence in this case had become so comfortable and dependable. And yet, in spite of the pain she had experienced when he had tried to give up on them a few months ago, she wasn’t sure whether this alternative was any better. In actuality, she wasn’t sure whether she could bear to trust herself or him with _more_ than what their current relationship could possibly offer. Not anymore. Not if it came with this unpredictable and seemingly endless seesawing turmoil.

“Excuse me, Miss Fisher,” Mr Butler gently interrupted her whirling thoughts. “Doctor MacMillan is here to see you. And shall I put a hold on dinner for now?”

“Thank you, Mr B! How would I cope without you?”

“You’d end up on my doorstep even more,” came Mac’s retort. “Or I’d end up even more often on yours. Although, considering your drinks supply is essentially unlimited, that isn’t such a bad deal on my part.”

“Mac, I’m so glad you’re here!” Phryne sipped her drink quickly whilst smiling gratefully and affectionately at her oldest friend.

“I gather there haven’t been any improvements since last night’s diagnosis then?”

“ _Ugh_ , please! The symptoms have turned out to be even worst!”

“Do tell. Although, I want to at least make it through the rest of this particularly fine whisky.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, it’s just become worst.”

“Hmmm. Did you know the inspector also paid me a visit late last night?”

“He did?” Phryne sat up straighter, then busied herself with a cushion tassel, not fooling her friend in the least.

Mac replied with a dramatic roll of her eyes before focusing on emptying her glass. She then noticed the large display on the piano. “Well, those are rather...opulent.”

“Oh, those,” Phryne replied absent-mindedly. “They’re from Raymond. More of his latest extravagant ways to thank me. You know, for believing in him and his studio, and investing in his film. I decided to attend that big after-party last night, and then he came back here so we could have a proper natter.”

Realizing her glass was empty, Mac stretched herself out of the armchair and started towards the drinks tray to help herself to another one when she noticed a different fragrance in the air and sniffed loudly.

“That’s odd, I don’t see any evergreen in this ornate mess,” she commented curiously.

“Ah, that’s because they’re coming from over here,” Phryne rose to her feet as well and wandered towards the smaller, but beautiful arrangement on her mantel. “Jack just came by earlier with these.” She picked up one of the green sprigs this time, and inhaled the scent whilst gently touching one of the pink buds.

“The inspecor was here? You could have told me,” Mac approached with more interest, fully replenished glass in hand.

“There’s nothing to tell. He arrived and just left suddenly without much explanation,” Phryne bit her lip slightly to hold back her sudden desire to cry.

“Why, what happened?” The doctor reached out to squeeze her friend’s hand in concern.

“I-I’m not sure, to be honest. I was on the telephone with Raymond when Jack arrived. He went on in here to wait for me. Then, when I had finished, I came in, and he suddenly stood up, saying he could no longer stay for dinner. And he just left in such a hurry that he left his coat behind!”

Mac narrowed her eyes as she quickly assessed this latest information. She once again examined the collection of wildflowers, and then glared over at the monstrosity on the piano. She had to refrain herself forcibly from rolling her eyes again in light of her friend’s visible distress.

_Honestly, for being the brightest detecting duo the world has ever seen, these two fools can also be such completely blind idiots!_

“Listen, Phryne,” she used her best beside manner voice for speaking to child patients. “Do you even know what type of plants these are?”

She nodded towards the sprig that Phryne still held in her other hand. Mac continued when her friend shook her head inquisitively, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“Well, that sprig that you’ve been holding is a type of evergreen from a plant called ‘Arborvitae’ that literally translates from the Latin as ‘Tree of Life.’ The Victorians often used them in bouquets and gifts because they represent ‘everlasting friendship.’”

Phryne’s eyes widened as she held up the sprig and stared at it as though it were a priceless gem.

“And what about these?” She let go of Mac’s hand to pick up one of the white blossoms.

“Those are almond flowers. And they traditionally mean ‘hope.’”

Phryne added the white flower to her sprig before picking out one of the delicate, pink bell-shaped blossoms from the vase. She didn’t have to ask this time.

Mac looked into her friend’s eyes determinedly. “These are the blossoms from the arbutus plant, Phryne. When someone gives another this flower, it means they are more than willing to build a strong foundation for their relationship with that other person. One that is strong enough to withstand the test of time.”

Phryne turned slightly paler at the doctor’s explanation, but Mac could also see the familiar flame lighting up her eyes.

“Basically, it’s the flower that the Victorians used to wax on about in their nauseating poetry because it means ‘thee only do I love.’”

Knowing her work was done for the night, Mac continued to sip contentedly from her glass with a self-satisfied smirk, even after Phryne quickly kissed her on the cheek and flew out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thanks goes to several of the MFMM Brain Trust (@aljohnsonwrites, @omgimsarahtoo and @olderbynow) who all gave me invaluable recommendations for Jack’s choice of flowers and great resources where I could research their significant meanings for this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light at the end of the tunnel has arrived! Thank you so much again, dear readers, for joining me on this journey that ended up becoming my first multi-chapter fic! 
> 
> Also muchas gracias again to my wonderful "partner-in-writing-Phrack" @comeaftermejackrobinson for all her phabulous input and squees that she devoted throughout this entire process, even whilst she was on vacation in Madrid and Paris!
> 
> Hope this finale makes all the torturous miscommunication chaos worthwhile!

> _“I don't want to have the same dreams a thousand times over and over again, I don't want to contemplate things wisely, I just want you to handle me with care."_
> 
> ― Gustavo Cerati

 

He was frantically chasing shadows and sounds, first up and down, and all around. But, no matter which stairway he took or corner he rounded, he continually came up against one dead end after another. He couldn’t give up though. He had to find her!

Suddenly, loud shouts rang out from above him, spurring him over to the nearest ladder that he used to propel himself upwards. Reaching the deck, he rolled over the side of the opening just in time to see her silhouette outlined against the moonlight across the ship from him. Before he could call out to her, the unmistakable crack of a bullet deafened his ears. An anguished roar erupted from his chest as he saw her body freeze in place before she toppled overboard.

Horrified, Jack raced to the ship’s edge, and dove over the side after her. His body plunged into the waves. The sea’s darkness resisted his frantic attempts to search the shadowy depths for its claimed treasure. His limbs flailed against the water’s pressure that fought to drag him further down below. He fought against the currents resisting his desperate efforts to look for her even as his limited air seeped out of his lungs. Panic overwhelmed his senses when he still couldn’t find her.

Unexpectedly, a white hand appeared out of the murkiness and caressed his face. A bright smile washed over him like the welcome beam from a lighthouse, as she appeared before him and wrapped her arms around him. His own arms clasped tightly around her in relief, anchoring her body against him.

Together, they both began to kick their way against the undercurrent, pushing straight past the debris, and skirting through all the other obstacles that tried to pull them apart. Just as he felt as though his lungs were going to fail, they broke through the surface….

Jack jolted awake, breathing heavily, and realizing that he was very cold, hungry, and in danger of becoming soaking wet. He shivered against the remnants of his dream and from the chill of the evening air that splashed a warning of rain in his direction. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Jack gripped his head in his hands, muttering to himself about falling asleep in his garden chair again.

Following the fiasco at Miss Fisher’s house, the inspector had made his way back to his house. Instead of heading through the main door, he had immediately retreated with his sore heart through the side gate to the solace of his natural refuge out back. It wasn’t expansive, but it had motivated him to purchase the small property shortly following the divorce nearly a year ago. Here, he could nurture and witness new life continually to help balance out the realities of unnatural death that followed and surrounded him constantly.

He mulled over his recent dream, acknowledging some if its deeper implications even though he was far from a superstitious man. The emotional turmoil from the past few days, however, was obviously demanding his attention. He knew the painful folly of his cowardice all too well now and what it had cost him following the Haynes case. His fear of losing Phryne was far outweighed by the pain and void of attempting to cut her out of the fabric of his life...and from his heart.

He also knew that his dream had reminded him to cling to the hope that she could handle his heart with care. If he truly loved her as he had tried to declare with his choice of flowers of tonight, then he needed to also trust her, consequences be damned. At the same time, his heart and feelings still couldn’t help feeling a tad battered and bruised.

The wind swept across his garden, sprinkling him with a brief shower of white blossoms from his almond tree. They had bloomed unseasonably early during the brief warm spell they had experienced this winter. Their fragrance tickled his nose and teased his forlorn expression.

“You’re rather tiny for being the symbolic meaning of hope,” he spoke to the blossom he had caught in his large hand.

As though to torture him, another familiar fragrance suddenly enveloped him, and felt so real that he could hear its owner’s sassy voice.

“A little hope can go quite a long way. Besides, symbols are only meaningful when one knows what they are trying to say.”

_Great, even in my garden, I still can’t escape her voice…or scent._

He gasped in surprise when he felt a warm hand reach out to brush the damp hair back from his forehead.

“I think we’ve both done enough escaping for quite awhile now, Jack.”

“Phryne?

“Yes, Jack?”

“Are you really here? Or am I still dreaming?”

“Does this feel like a dream, Jack?”

He was suddenly overwhelmed by the delicious, melting warmth of soft lips against his, and the reassuring press of solid arms wrapping about his shoulder and neck. His own arms instinctively encircled her waist, pulling her close against him, reminiscent of his dream.

“Actually, this feels like something that belongs to me.” He scolded her playfully after they had eventually resurfaced. He rather liked the feel of his coat around her.

“Finders, keepers, Jack,” she shrugged with an impish grin. “Especially of its contents,” she declared. “But, since I’m so generous, you can have the wrapping back.”

She leaned back slightly in his arms to rummage around inside one of his coat’s pockets. His patience was awarded when she triumphantly brandished a slightly crumpled piece of paper at his nose. Instantly recognising her proffered offering, he plucked it from her fingers and read it out with relish.

“‘Let such a ‘basket’ hold my thanks. A thousand thanks.’”

It was the note that he had written to her earlier, and that he had forgotten to give to her along with his flowers.

“Shakespeare,” she stated with a knowing glint in her eye.

“Naturally,” he smirked back in return. He cleared his throat before continuing in the deeper tone that always made her spine shiver.

“You have done my poor house grace, for which I pay you a thousand thanks,” he murmured against her hair.

Phryne responded suggestively, “And pray we take our pleasures.” This time, he eagerly agreed with her sentiments without the need for any words.

“By the by, Miss Fisher, just how did you gain access to this property? I know better than to question how you found the directions to the location,” his mouth twitched slightly in his trademark half-smile.

Her cheeky grin quickly dissolved into one of delighted shock when his clever fingers slid down the side of her neck. And dipped slowly down inside her brassiere to retrieve her lock pick.

“Why, Inspector, I believe you need a search warrant for that!”

“I think I’ll be confiscating this for the evening, Miss Fisher, to prevent any grievous bodily harm.”

At Phryne’s sudden sneeze, he stood up quickly with her still in his arms.

“Although, I do believe we ought to continue this line of questioning in a warmer and more suitable location.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Inspector. Lead the way.”

 

*-*-*

 

Phryne nuzzled her head contentedly against Jack’s shoulder as she pushed away the uneaten remains of her dessert. Jack rescued it without any preamble and tucked away the last of the delicious apple cake. She reached over to tenderly brush away a few crumbs from the corner of his mouth with her thumb before looking inside the basket. It was looking rather empty now considering it had arrived filled with the bounty of their aborted dinner, courtesy of Mr B.

She stared into the reassuring warmth of the fire Jack had started before they had indulged in their picnic feast. The remnants still laid spread out on the rug of his quaint parlour. Picking up her glass of wine, she sipped slowly before turning her gaze back over towards the endearing man beside her.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he toasted her with his own half-filled glass, sensing her change in mood.

“Jack, I was just thinking how close we came to missing out on all of this.” She swirled her glass slightly to indicate their current setting.

“Quite right, I would never have forgiven myself for missing out on Mr Butler’s apple cake.”

Despite his teasing tone, he quickly put down his wine glass to wrap his arms gently around his beautiful partner.

“And I definitely would never have forgiven myself for leaving you like I did tonight, especially if you hadn’t come after me. I was upset, yes, but I should have trusted you, Phryne.” She smiled up at him fondly. “I should have stayed to learn the full situation instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“And, I should have trusted you more as well, Jack, especially when I came across you and Rosie at that restaurant. And then later in your office.” Her fingers trailed idly as she spoke, fingering his slightly loosened tie.

“I know that you are a deeply compassionate man, Jack, who would never let someone suffer alone. Especially someone you share so much history with.” She tensed slightly at the memory.

“But, despite your reassuring visit that first night after the Pandarus case, I was just so confused. And so I ran,” she tried to explain.

Jack’s arms tightened around her reassuringly. “What a fine pair we make, Miss Fisher.”

“At least you tried to tell me how you felt tonight, Jack, with your beautiful flowers. And your note.”

“Yes, but if it hadn’t been for Mac, you might not have understood the message all the same.”

She reached out to caress one of the bell-shaped blossoms from the fresh bouquet he had insisted on gathering for her after they had retreated inside.

“I do now, Inspector. And, I do wish I could take these with me when I have to go away again.”

She had told him about the pending trip to the Alps that Aunt Prudence had invited her, Dot, and Mac to accompany her on. Aunt P had to complete some paperwork with several of her Uncle Edward’s former business partners. So she had decided to combine it with a Christmas in July holiday at her friends’ countryside chalet.

“They shall eagerly await your return, Miss Fisher, as will I.”

“I wish you could come with us.”

“So do I, Phryne. But, I’m sure you will find an adventure or two whilst you are there to occupy your curiosity. And, I am only ever a telephone call away.”

“Yes, although from now on, perhaps we should make sure that we only relay our messages directly to one another.”

Jack leaned down affectionately to deliver his response. “Was that direct enough of a message for you, Miss Fisher?”

“I’m not certain. Perhaps you should repeat it again, Inspector, just to make sure.”

Afterwards, Phryne tucked her head against his solid chest, feeling an indescribable sense of inner peace encase them as she lay wrapped inside his arms. Closing her eyes, she smiled contentedly as the reassuring rhythm of his steady heart anchored her own a thousand times over and over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack’s thank you note and Phryne’s response include a combination of the following lines from Act I, Scene IV of Shakespeare’s play “King Henry VIII”:
> 
> Lord Sands: _Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,/And save me so much talking._ (Ln, 46-48).
> 
> Cardinal Wosely: _They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay ‘em/A thousand thanks, and pray ‘em take their pleasures._ (Lines 91-92).


End file.
